Bad Apple
by PrismCreator
Summary: Everyone has a unique story. It's like a fingerprint, no two are alike. Muriel knew how his story was supposed to turn out. He was supposed to trick the WInchester's, and then bring the news to heaven. Unfortunately for him, friendships get in the way and nothing turns out the way it was meant to. OC, pairing with change as the story progresses.
1. Taking Orders Is What I'm Made For

**AN: Hello! This is XxPenguinxX. I wanted to get some things clear, i'm not 100% sure where i'm going with this. I have a basic outline, but I have a lot of wiggle room with this story. This idea came to me in a dream, and i'm going to take my dream and modify it as I see fit, and what I think you (the readers) will best respond to. Hopefully, you will love what I do. Also, i'm going to apply some of my own opinions on how angels and heaven would be like. **

**I'd also like to point out, i'm not very sure when this will be taking place. Angels are there for sure, and demons. Hunters are there, and Metatron...but, any way. So, yes, some of the story line Supernatural is following my story will not follow. Please don't point it out, I already know. Thank you, and read on! **

**XxXxX**

"You've called, sir?"

The large, white space echoed with the voice. That's exactly what it was, a _space, _no clear walls or ceiling. It swallowed up his voice and spit it back out, throwing it at him. He stood erect, like a solider before a general. Ever since his creation, he was trained to respect. They drilled it into his head, '_respect those above you, respect me, respect them, respect, respect, respect.'_ His whole existence was based upon it.

"Ah, yes, you're here," Metatron called, turning away from the desk placed in what looked like the middle of the vast, empty, landscape. It seemed to be the only thing other then the two angels that was there. "I have a job, and you seem like the perfect individual."

He stayed silent, awaiting the orders he knew were coming. "Do you know what a story is?" Metatron asked, leaning against the polished wood. He looked so relaxed, an eyebrow raised in question. "Of course, sir. A story consist of a beginning, middle, and end. The climax is-"

"No, no. Not the formula for a story, i'm if you know what an actual story is," Metatron was quick to interrupt, obviously not liking the lower angels explanation. Another moment of silence clouded the atmosphere, before he piped up again, "I'm not sure what you are asking, sir. So i'm going to say, no. I do not know what a story is." He folded his hands neatly behind his back, not sure where the conversation was going.

"Well, then. You are going to find out," Metatron smiled at him, "It's been quit boring up in heaven, what with all the angels gone. I want you to go to earth, and get me a story. Not one already made, make your own. Go and live a life, have children, maybe even get yourself a hot wife. Then, when your story is over, bring it back to me." Metatron, turned back to his desk, fiddling with some lose papers.

"Excuse me? I don't think I understand the point you are trying to get at, sir," He said, eyebrows pulling together. This man, Metatron, was very perplexing at times. "You will in due time," Metatron responded, giving the man before him his full attention, "I want you to go, live any life you could possibly want, and then come back here and tell me all the details. Heaven is so boring nowadays, Earth is where the action is happening," Metatron said, clapping his hands together, "Now, you should be going. Do you think you'll be able to get it done?" He asked, even though it wasn't a question. This was an order, and he knew that.

"Of course," He responded, not even thinking about it.

"Very well. I knew you wouldn't let me down, Muriel," Metatron addressed him, a small smirk like smile on his lips, "Now, go get me that story."

**XxX**

Muriel soon came to learn that Earth is rather chilly in the December months. At least, it is in America. He doesn't really think he likes it just yet, the cities are filthy, the people are flawed, and the noise makes his head hurt. The only reason he's decided to stay is he basically has to. _'Go get me a story,'_ what does that even mean? It was so sudden, one day he was in heaven and the next he's trying to adjust to Earth, without sticking out too much. It doesn't matter in the end, though. He has the perfect story.

Everyone in Heaven and Hell knows about the two hunters, Sam and Dean. Monsters fear them, demons and angels hunt them, they're infamous. They were the perfect characters for this little 'story' he had to star in. He would find the pair, trick them into befriending the innocent angel, and then pull the rug out from under them. They would never see it coming, and Metatron would be wholly please with the tale he came back with.

"Ma'am, may I have a beverage?" He questioned the woman behind the counter, noting her green apron, tied behind her back. "A beverage? Gotta be more specific, son," The woman said, impatience clear. Muriel scrunched his nose in thought, looking at the menu. It was all very foreign to him. He wasn't very scripted on common human drinks. He'd only been created in the last ten years, and was a child. Metatron kept all the young angels, saying their minds were open to his cause.

"Well then...get me whatever you'll recommend," Muriel says, fixing cold grey eyes on the woman. She nods with disinterest, scribbling human script on a plastic cup before ringing up the angels order. "Coffee it is."

Making the payment had been difficult, but lucky for Muriel, Metatron set him up with a few hundreds. "Thank you ma'am," Muriel finally says, going to sit at an empty table. It has a stain of sticky liquid on it, and Muriel's face scrunched with disgust. Humans were plain messy sometimes, never bothering to pick up their messes. They always waited for someone else to wipe it up for them.

"Here's your coffee sir, black." The woman's grey hair fell forward slightly as she placed the cup in front of Muriel. His back was unusually straight, much like a pianist before their instrument. Muriel gave her thanks again, straightening the plain white cup before taking a small sip. The nearly black liquid _burned_ his tongue, and overwhelmed his scenes he'd never even used before. Muriel started coughing, pushing the offending cup of 'coffee' away from him.

The waitress laughed, patting Muriel on the back. "Coffee just isn't for some people, kid. Try adding sugar and creamer, works wonders." With that, she walked away, moving on to do other meaningless task around the small shop. Still recovering from chocking, Muriel cursed the dark drink. Who in the right mind drinks this?

With a huff, much like a two year old who had their toy taken away, Muriel went over the information he'd gathered on the two male hunters he was after. So far he'd learned about the strength in the boys relationship. Very codependent, almost unhealthily so. Considering what the boys had seen, they get a pass. Muriel had also gathered Dean was the brute strength, while Sam was more the brains. Unlucky for him, both boys were skilled in fighting. And, if needed, Dean could put two and two together.

He'd also learned the boys knew their way around angels.

This was going to be considerable harder then he'd first anticipated.

**XxX**

**AN: Wow, finally. It feels great having this idea down on paper. This has been brewing and manifesting itself in my mind for such a long time now. I hope you guys enjoyed, and please, tell me what you think? Ships you want, characters you wanna see, tips on my writing, what you think should happen next. Anything, really! **

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you come back for the next chapters! **


	2. Every Journey Starts With a Few Steps

**AN: Hello, my wonderful sunshines! I know that the first chapter was a little b land, but hopefully you've made it this far. I have some great ideas i'm going to incorporate, and I want you guys to see them, and tell me what you think.**

**I'm really going to write this, even if no one reads it. I'll write it for myself.**

**Disclaimer(Which I forgot the first chapter): I, PrismCreator, do not own Supernatural, or any characters associated with it. I only own the characters I've added and the plot line I came up with, thank you.**

**Read on,**

**XxX**

Chapter Two: Locked On Target

When infiltrating what could be the two strongest hunters alive, you have to be careful. It takes planning, time, a method. Muriel couldn't just walk up to their base, and demand they befriend him. He also couldn't randomly revel the fact he was an angel with it's wings intact. Muriel had to think, and think fast.

When the angel touched down on Earth, he immediately found their base. It used to belong to the men of letters but had long since been left behind, only to be occupied by the Winchester in later years. Dean and Sam spent most of their time in this building, which was a small trek away from town. It was rare anyone went in except the Winchesters.

"May I have whatever you recommend?" Again, in the small cafe. He was getting quite attached to it, not that he would tell anyone. It was so quaint and quite, and the waitress didn't seem to mind the extra business. "Sure think, Muriel," The woman said, having quickly learned the man's name after three visits. She went to work fixing the cup, as Muriel mused over what he could do.

"Even gunna change those clothes, sonny?" The woman asked, placing another cup of coffee in front of the angel. he scrunched up his nose at the offending smell, but to his surprise it was more of a brown then a black. "I'm not sure what you mean, is there something wrong with my outfit of choice?" Muriel asked, looking down at his attire. He thought he looked well enough, not too different from most of the other humans. Maybe it was the cherry red shoes, he thought they made him stand out a bit...

"No, boy, it's not the outfit that's funny, it's the fact you wear it every damn day!" The woman exclaimed, placing a white napkin beside his cup. Taking a sip of the drink, Muriel was please to find it wasn't that bad anymore. Still extraordinarily bitter, but not as unbearable as before. "Ah, yes, well..." Muriel trailed off, not sure what to say. He didn't know human changed their outfits every day. Human fashion was a subject he'd only skimmed during his time in heaven. He really wished he'd gone more in depth into the subject.

The woman gave a sigh, "Oh, it's okay. Forget I said anything." With that she went back to work, cleaning a nearby table. Muriel took another small sip, glancing out the large window in front of the shop. He'd decided he was going to not directly hurt the Winchesters, Metatron wanted a story after all, and if his tale was short he might not be very satisfied with it. Muriel just had to find a reason to make the boys trust him, like they trusted the angel Castiel.

He had to make them think they were fighting for the same side.

With that thought, a plan formed in Muriel's head. He pushed the cup of coffee away, straightening out his jacket as he stood. "Thank you very much for the drink, Ma'am," Muriel called, leaving the cup half full. The woman didn't comment, instead she waved a goodbye. She was starting to grow on the angel.

Out the door he went, drawing his thick coat close. Again, winter is chilly in the United States. A lot colder then it ever was in heaven. Apparently, it's supposed to snow soon. Muriel couldn't say he was excited for that. The angel had never experience snow before, so he didn't know if he'd really like the icy feel of it on his skin. The children around town seemed excited though, he kept overhearing them talking about it. 'It's about to snow, I know it,' or 'I can't wait to make snow angels!' Muriel later learned that snow angels aren't really angels, they're almost like snowmen.

Thankfully, his vessel was dressed warm when he'd entered him. Muriel wouldn't know where to go to bye warmer clothes. This body was so hard to maintain. He didn't feel pain, but he had so many more senses. He could feel his skin turn icy when the air touched it, and smell the food as he passed on the streets. Muriel heard so much more then he ever had before, too. He heard all the children laughing and screaming. Heaven was so much quieter then Earth. Muriel wasn't sure if he liked it just yet.

As he walked to his destination, he knew one thing. He liked learning more about human culture. They were just so different from angels and heaven and it was weird to be living so differently all of the sudden. They slumped their shoulders when they stood, even though they knew it was bad for their backs. Humans also walked around outside at night, even though they had a higher chance of being attacked. Humans didn't live like they could die at any moment, they lived for the enjoyment. Something most angels hadn't experienced before. At least Muriel certainly hadn't.

"Excuse me, sir!" A little girl exclaimed as she bumped into his leg, only coming up to about his hip. She was rather small, short brown hair framing her face. Muriel glanced down at her, confused as to how she managed to run into him when the rest of the sidewalk was clearly open. The girl was giggling, turning to look behind her shoulder as a friend chanced behind her.

Tag, she was playing tag.

The girl ran off, laughing wildly.

Humans were so very odd, Muriel thought to himself. It was about time for him to put his plan into action. The less time he took the faster he could get his job done and deliver his story into heaven. He also didn't want to run into many problems on earth. With Heaven on lock down and all the demons on Earth, he was much less safe here then at home.

With all of his powers in tact, Muriel could still transport. This would come in easy in the future, but be hard to explain to the Winchester's. He didn't even really know how he had them himself. The spell Metatron cast should have, in theory, cast him out with the rest of his brothers and sisters. But instead, he stayed by Metatron's side. There were so many questions when it came to Metatron...

Focusing on his destination, Muriel used his grace to materialize there. It was fast, like a blink. If anyone saw him vanish they would think they were seeing things. It was impossible for someone to be there, and then not be there the next.

Opening slate grey eyes, Muriel took in his surroundings. He was by the Winchester's current residence. The greenery flourished, and the road wasn't paved at the door of the home. He'd heard that the Winchester's took to calling in the 'bat cave'. Whatever that meant.

With a deep, calming breath, Muriel began the first steps of his journey. Those steps lead right the Winchester's door.

**XxXx**

**AN: Wow, okay. I don't really know where any of this is coming from. I really am starting to wonder where all of this is coming from. To be honest, I think I'm just going to delete it. It's pretty poorly written and no one seems to have any interest in it yet. But, who knows. Maybe i'll make something worth reading out of this. I got this dream a while ago, so it's hard to shape it around the new plot twist that have been happening in the show recently. I'll try my best! **

**Thanks for reading, like, comment, subscribe even? I don't really mind. Whatever you want I guess. If you have any ship ideas (don't have to include the OC) or ideas in general (tips, even) Send 'em in! I'd love to hear them! **

**Thanks, **

**-PrismCreator**


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